Just a Casual Observer
by Kjb2609
Summary: CS AU based on this prompt - You're always the waiter/bartender at the restaurant I bring my dates to. You've started leaving your own personal ranking of each date in the checkbook and I don't know if I'm annoyed or amused


**Based on this prompt:** \- _You're always the waiter/bartender at the restaurant I bring my dates to. You've started leaving your own personal ranking of each date in the checkbook and I don't know if I'm annoyed or amused_

For lifeinahole27 on the occasion of her birth

 **Just a Casual Observer**

It was destined to be another disaster.

After all, why would this be any different to his previous encounters? Relying on the swipe of your finger in the search for love seemed ludicrous at best - especially to a man not completely convinced love was a thing he was searching for at all.

Beyond the fact that 'getting out there' and 'meeting people' seemed to be things that prevented a total and complete intrusion of his brother and sister-in-law in his love life - or what passed quite happily for one in his books - Killian Jones failed to see one other factor that made his continued presence on that infernal app a positive life choice.

"You look like you could use this. Don't tell me this one stood you up?"

He looked up into the amused green eyes of a woman whose name tag proclaimed her to be Emma. Killian had seen her here before, admired her loosely braided blonde hair and the way the black dress she wore as her uniform clung to her curves, but he had never been seated in her section nor had reason to speak to her before. Her choice of words confused him - a feeling that must have been obvious on his face because she slid a tumbler of rum down next to his water glass and continued, "You're here often enough and always with someone different - so I assume you are on first dates. Unless you're some kind of serial womaniser, of course?"

Her expression suggested that she had not completely ruled out the second option.

"You're quite perceptive, aren't you love?" he replied, curious as to why this stranger was invested in his romantic escapades at all. Was it not enough to have Liam and Elsa not-so-gently prodding him towards the opposite sex? Still, she had come bearing gifts, he thought, tipping the glass towards her in thanks and taking a sip. "Although on this occasion the young lady in question is merely running late."

"Why do I get the feeling that is a deal breaker?" Emma asked with a smile. "Can I expect to see you back next week with someone else?"

"Years in the Navy mean I do value punctuality," he conceded, "but perhaps I will give the lass a reprieve if for no other reason than to surprise you with a repeat appearance. I'd be loathe to have you think you supplied alcohol to some leather-clad lothario using your establishment as a base for his exploits."

Emma chuckled and Killian found himself smiling warmly back at her despite his initial annoyance at her intrusion. Something deep inside him responded to the sound of her laughter, a long-forgotten tug of happiness alongside a desperate wish to hear it again. "Well I hope she's late because she ran home for a dictionary…"

"I don't pay you to make doey eyes at the customers, Ms Swan."

A dark haired woman sidled up close to Emma and hissed in her ear, clearly unaware of how her voice carried even in the noise of the busy restaurant. She scowled at the server before turning to Killian, her expression softening slightly as she smiled at him. Emma raised a subtle eyebrow at Killian before turning to face the woman.

"Of course not Regina," she replied smoothly. "The gentleman was just saying how good the acoustics are in the dining room." She turned to Killian with a sweet smile, one that was in no way matched by the flash of rebellion in her eyes. "Overhear anything interesting, sir?"

Killian felt a twitch of his lips as his eyes moved from Emma to her boss. The manager's eyes narrowed at Emma, lips pursed and nostrils flaring, her fists clenched at her sides. Emma, in contrast, was all wide-eyed innocence and he had to force a neutral expression as he shrugged in reply.

The manager said no more, but flounced away, leaving Killian to raise a questioning eyebrow at Emma. "Pushing your luck with the boss there, Swan," he said, the name slipping from his lips unthinkingly. It suited her somehow, he thought, strong and unflappable. "I don't know if I can be an accessory to a mutiny, though."

"That ship has sailed," she quipped, but her warm smile disappeared quickly, her posture suddenly straightening as her whole demeanor became more formal. A red haired woman brushed Emma aside as she approached the table and Killian stood hurriedly to meet his date. Her mouth curled in a predatory smile and she made no attempt to hide the way her eyes ran approvingly over his form.

"So sorry I'm late, Killian darling. I'm Zelena - so lovely to meet you," she crooned, reaching over to kiss his cheeks in turn before turning her gaze to Emma. Her eyes hardened as her lip curled up in a dismissive sneer. "Perhaps I should have collected my own menu on the way in?" she asked in a sing-songy voice.

Killian shot an apologetic glance at Emma, cursing Liam, Elsa, dating apps, the internet and any other possible cause of him being there, but she had turned and headed quickly towards the kitchen without a second glance. He watched as she walked away, regret mingling with a tiny thread of something that felt strangely like hope.

She was professional and distant throughout the meal, plates arriving and disappearing with startling efficiency as Zelena simpered and smirked in equal measures. Killian did little more than nod and hum in response - though he would have been hard-pressed to find opportunity to talk if he had been so inclined - and counted the minutes till he could take his leave.

No more welcome words had ever been spoken than his, "Check please".

Emma slid the leather folder containing the bill in front of Killian, a tiny twist of her lips piquing his interest as she melted back into the busyness of the restaurant. He opened the cover, scanning the printed receipt quickly before a scrawl of green ink caught his eye.

 _NOPE. We are not in Kansas any more. Bucket of water, now! Try again next week._

The amused snort had escaped before he could compose himself, and Zelena looked inquisitively at him.

"Something wrong with the check, darling?" she asked as she gathered her wrap. "I knew that waitress was substandard…"

"No, no," Killian interjected, unwilling to hear one more condescending insult about anyone in the restaurant, most especially Emma. Theirs may have been a brief interaction, but there was something about the blonde that had him intrigued. "In fact, I would say it is freakishly accurate," he finished.

Emma was nowhere to be seen when he escorted Zelena out and into a cab, her efforts to secure a promise of a second date hastily diverted by non-committal small talk and suddenly remembered plans. When she was gone, he looked back into the restaurant, watching as Emma weaved in and out of tables, her smile fixed in place but just not quite the same as the one he had shared with her earlier.

A smile a tiny part of him was looking forward to seeing again next week.

* * *

It was two weeks, in the end, but the end result was the same. Ariel was certainly sweeter than her predecessor - wide-eyed and innocent with a love of the sea that outshone his own if her penchant for actual mermaid tails was anything to go by - and yet the flutter of nerves Killian felt as he opened the check gave him pause. There had been no such reaction when Ariel had reached across to touch his hand, no butterflies gathering despite her being a lovely lass. The question of why the opinion of a relative stranger seemed so important was one he had no answer to - or at least none he wished to think too deeply about.

He smiled as he read it - in purple ink this time and scrawled across the base of the receipt.

 _Better, Jones, but not quite. A bit too perky maybe. Too happy. You need a bit of seriousness, I think._

And so it continued. They fell into a comfortable pattern, Killian and Emma, a burgeoning friendship of sorts based on tiny moments of stolen conversation and the odd tumbler of rum snuck out from under the nose of her boss. A partnership where Emma inevitably had the final word - and Killian enjoyed every minute.

Lily's dating profile seemed to fulfill the 'less perky' requirement but by the time the appetisers were over Killian realised her dark hair and eyes were the lightest things about her. There was something almost menacing about the edge in her voice and her outlook on life that had him wary and watchful. A fact that was apparently not lost on Emma as he took the check. _It's not an either/or. The brooding! The serious silences! Did you talk at all? There has to be a happy medium, surely? Look for some fun, Jones._

And if it struck Killian that the most fun he'd had in weeks happened before and after any date he might have gone on, he chose not to dwell on it. Nor did he acknowledge the fact he had taken to arriving at the restaurant a little earlier with each visit.

He was a punctual man, after all.

It was harder to deny the flashes of blonde hair and fierce green eyes that weaved their way in and out of his dreams. Stolen moments that woke him suddenly and left him wanting in a way he had thought long forgotten, despite his outwardly active dating life.

Which was not in any way quickly becoming a means to a very different end.

A profile picture in what appeared to be an elaborate Disney costume seemed whimsical and lighthearted, the choice of someone who didn't take themselves too seriously - a definite contrast to his previous encounter if nothing else. As Ella sat opposite him, however, it seemed less whimsy and more delusion and Killian found himself struggling to leave "Cru" from the beginning of her name as he forced his gaze away from her heavily drawn brows.

When she mentioned puppies as their mains were delivered, he was honestly afraid Emma's sudden coughing fit would be seen for the strangled laughter that it was.

He avoided eye contact with Emma throughout their meal, knowing his own amusement was so close to the surface a wayward glance from her was all it would take to let it take flight. And no matter how disturbing the lady's makeup choices, he believed in good form and refused to be less than a gentleman.

Nevertheless, the anticipation of Emma's response was never far from his mind. While there had never been anything but friendly banter between them, no sign from her that she saw him as anything other than a poor judge of character and a source of amusement, something about Emma Swan had infiltrated his very being. Deny it as much as he might, the only thing taking him back to his phone and the infernal swiping was the thought that it would bring him back to her in whatever capacity that could be.

"Your check, sir," came Emma's voice and Killian raised his eyes cautiously to hers. His care was unwarranted, though as she had already turned to his companion, her face neutral except for the mischievous twinkle in her eye. "And madam, your coat is ready for you at the cloak room. It was the fur, I believe?"

She was gone before he opened the leather wallet.

And he was gone after.

 _NO NO NO NO NO. You'll have to warn people to lock up their dalmatians before you go anywhere._

 _What the hell are you doing Jones?_

 _I get off at 10. Granny's. Let's sort this out once and for all._

* * *

The older lady behind the counter - Granny, he assumed - eyed him with interest as he slid into a booth just on 10pm. Something about the place felt comfortable, homey even, despite the steely strength that emanated from its namesake and the abrasive way in which she spoke to some of her customers.

The small bearded man she was winning the battle of wits with currently was clearly quite accustomed to his treatment; seemed indeed to relish it, so perhaps it was all part of the diner's charm.

The nervous flutter of his stomach was disconcerting. He was entirely unsure of what he was doing here - was this a friendly meeting to point out the error of his ways? Or something more he was not quite willing to hope for? And yet the anticipation was not entirely unwelcome - there was something about the butterflies that made him feel more alive than he had in years.

He was equally happy at the spark of attraction he felt when Emma came through the door, peeling off her jacket and looking around till she caught his eye. She had undone her braid and her hair fell in golden waves over her shoulders, and his fingertips tingled at the thought of tangling in its lengths. She waved to Granny, the acerbic expression on the older woman's face shifting immediately into an affectionate smile.

Emma slid into the seat opposite him, eyebrows raised as she shook her head at him, lips quirked in a disbelieving smirk.

"In my defense, Swan, I assumed her profile picture was some kind of costume," he said before Emma could even comment.

The smirk widened. "You had advanced warning and you still went through with it?"

He blinked quickly, a catch in his breath as he considered the truth of why he went through with it. If Emma noticed, she made no comment and they were interrupted by Granny arriving at their table before Killian had the chance to change the subject.

"Evening, Granny," Emma smiled. "Was Henry in tonight?" For the first time since Killian had met her, Emma Swan looked truly happy, her face serene and genuine affection in her eyes. He watched her with delight, before the cold light of reality started to dawn - who was Henry to Emma if this was the emotion he brought out in her?

"He did and he said to tell you he missed you and he would see you tomorrow," Granny answered, her own expression making clear the fondness she felt for this man, Henry. He slumped slightly in his chair, just as Granny turned her attention to him. "Now, Emma, are you going to introduce me to your friend?" the diner owner asked, a curious lilt in her voice as she looked his way.

"Granny, Killian. Killian, Granny," she said by way of introduction. "Now I need to find this man a decent date, so we'll have coffee and lots of it, please."

Killian didn't miss the incredulous look that Granny sent in Emma's direction, even if Emma herself was oblivious to it. He smiled wanly at Granny, the cold cut of disappointment settling in his gut even as he stood and shook her hand, the tiny glimmer of hope that this was more than a mercy mission dashed by Emma's obvious indifference to him. She'd given him no reason to hope for more, of course, and yet he had let her slide under his skin regardless of the risks.

Granny held his hand a little longer than was necessary, her eyes running over his form in what seemed for all the world like more than strictly professional interest. Despite the disappointment, Killian found himself grinning at the woman, one eyebrow arched as she stared unashamedly back. They broke eye contact simultaneously, Killian shuffling back into the booth as Granny turned to Emma with a sigh and a roll of her eyes.

"Really?" she said dryly. "Finding this guy a date is proving difficult is it? Yeah I can see how that would be a big problem."

"Are you volunteering?" Emma asked.

"If you find you _really_ can't think of anyone else, Emma, then sure," she said, winking at Killian as she turned to head back to the counter. He couldn't help but chuckle at her brashness, but Emma only shook her head in fond exasperation.

"She's a menace, honestly. You'd better watch your ass around her," Emma laughed. "Literally."

"She seems charming," Killian replied, "and I am seriously considering a new date location for the future."

Emma chuckled. "Those are rather limited here in Storybrooke - I'd save Granny's for a second date, I think. Just to mix it up." She paused, smiling as a waitress placed two cups of coffee on the table in front of them. Killian watched in disbelief as she stirred several spoons of sugar into her cup, wincing slightly as she took a satisfied sip of the steaming liquid. Emma screwed her nose up at him, holding his gaze unashamedly until he looked away with a smile.

They drank their coffees in silence for a few moments before Emma stretched her hand across to him. "Come on, then, hand it over," she commanded. Confusion must have registered in his eyes because she huffed in frustration. "Your phone. Hand it over. How else am I going to show you how this is done?"

"Tell me, love, what makes you such an expert?" He leaned across the table slightly, watching as an all too familiar expression of loss registered in her eyes. It was a momentary lapse of her sometimes prickly exterior, but enough for Killian to recognise a kindred spirit.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" she snapped back, the steel back in her eyes as she met his gaze.

His voice was softer, searching as he answered. "Perhaps I would." There was no doubt that he wanted to know her, to understand what had made a woman like Emma Swan feel the need to keep herself so hidden.

Emma bit down on her bottom lip, saying nothing but clearly considering his words. She breathed deeply, her hands going unconsciously to a silver charm around her neck, fingers running over the surface as she looked back at him.

"Let's just say I learned to be a pretty good judge of character," she said quietly. The hard way, he suspected, waiting to see if she would add to her story. But with an almost imperceptible set of her shoulders, her armour was back in place and the corners of her mouth quirked up in a wry smile. "Unlike you, clearly. But you seem like a decent guy, and you're one hell of a tipper, so I'll help you out. There's got to be someone out there - other than Granny - that you can at least take on a second date."

He tried to hide the defeated slump of his shoulders as he slid the device across the table to Emma. She narrowed her eyes at his wallpaper - "Captain Hook? Really?" - before devoting her complete attention to the profile pictures that appeared in the app.

The irony of his love life being firmly in her hands was not lost on Killian.

She was ruthless in her approach, slashing and burning her way through image after image as Killian could do little more than watch. Despite the fact he had lost complete control, he found himself focused on the tiny ways her features changed at each new woman, her eyes telling the story before she said a word. "Nope, nope, nope, ooh-" Emma paused, appearing to read the profile more closely, "- REALLY nope." She looked up from the screen and Killian quirked a questioning eyebrow at her.

"There are 4 spelling mistakes in the 12 words on her profile. She's not for you," Emma explained.

"Come now, Swan, what kind of prat do you think I am?" he asked, his hand on his chest in mock offence.

"I'm not thinking of you," she retorted, "the poor girl won't understand half of what you say. Not. For. You."

He chuckled, unable to deny the truth of her words. "Do I get a say in my potential companion at all, love?"

Emma rolled her eyes spectacularly. "Because you've done so well so far? Drink your coffee and let me do my thing." She looked set to continue her attack but just as she went back to the screen, she paused. "I suppose you can come sit over here and at least look at who you'll be saying yes to."

He took a deep breath, the thought of sitting in such close proximity to her playing havoc with his senses. Knowing she was attached was little deterrent to his body, no matter how hard his brain reminded him of good form, but he was up and sliding into the seat next to her before he had time to question the sanity of it. His shoulder brushed hers as she moved along the bench seat, heat flaring on his skin at her touch even through his jacket. She was bent over his phone again, eyes focused intently on the screen, clearly indifferent to his closeness in a way he found himself envying.

His only hope was that she truly was a master of this dating app, he realised, because it would take quite a woman to lessen the pull of Emma Swan herself.

"So we are not likely to come across you in our online adventures, are we Swan?" he asked, knowing the answer but looking for anything that could focus his attention away from the way her leg brushed against his as she moved in her seat or the strawberry scent that wafted from her hair.

Emma snorted. "Yeah, nope. No need for dating apps here," she said, resuming her swiping with abandon.

"Too young. Too old. No. No. Nope. Oh, maybe?" she paused, flashing the screen in his direction. The woman in question seemed attractive enough, small and blonde with a lively smile. He shrugged, nodding his approval, despite knowing that no matter how lovely, this woman would have one major fault - she was not Emma Swan.

"All right then," Emma said, swiping yes with a smile, before her face pulled into a grimace. "Or no," she said gingerly, staring at the woman smiling from the screen. "Your loss, lady, he's one of the good ones."

Warmth filled his being at her compliment, no matter how misplaced. She was merely being friendly and he fought the urge to read more into her words than he knew she intended. Diffusing the situation was all he could do. "I must be growing on you Swan, to receive such a compliment," he said, his tone light no matter how he felt inside.

"Must be," Emma replied, with a laugh. "Now no more distractions." She turned back to the screen, rejecting a few more women before she stopped again. "Oh, hang on a minute. This is something." She slid the phone to Killian. An attractive brunette was in the profile pic. _Belle, 28_ , it read. _Librarian with a never ending reading list._ " _The more that you read, the more things you will know. The more you learn, the more places you'll go."— Dr. Seuss._

She seemed a better prospect than any he had chosen himself - present company excluded - so he agreed. Emma swiped yes and a grin formed on her face. "Bingo," she said confidently. "She's the one. Second date time."

"That's a lot of faith you've put in me, love," he said, tensing as Emma placed a hand on his arm. "I haven't got through a first one yet."

"You're a good guy, Killian," she said simply. His phone chimed before she could say any more. Emma tapped on the screen and grinned when she saw the source. She pushed the phone across to him. "You can thank me later," she said.

Killian looked at the message. Belle had responded almost immediately, clearly keen to make a connection. He smiled at Emma, pushing aside any feelings that suggested he was settling for second best. Swan had never been his to wish for, he knew that now, and it would be poor form to not give Belle a fighting chance, at least. "Many thanks, Swan," he said quietly. "I would love to know what prompted your interest in me and my dubious dalliances, but I am grateful for your assistance."

Emma smiled sheepishly, squaring her shoulders before she spoke. "You seemed a bit, I don't know, lost," she said quietly, "and I know how that feels. There aren't a lot of new faces around here - just you and me, I guess and God knows I wasn't the most welcome when I got here so I kind of kept to myself. But there you were, at least trying to meet people even though I could see your heart wasn't completely in it and next thing I know I'm stealing the top shelf liquor." She paused, a deep sigh filling the silence, her cheeks flushed pink as she battled the discomfort of such openness.

He had a million questions - and he asked none of them. This was the longest, most open speech he had ever heard her give, and he certainly had no desire to add to her distress.

But if a sharp tongue and a biting comeback were Emma's armour, a well placed word to diffuse the situation was always his.

"Let's hope the ladies were not as perceptive as you, Swan. I do pride myself on being somewhat of a dashing rapscallion -" Emma snorted derisively and Killian smiled to himself as she visibly relaxed - "and I would hate to have left them...unsatisfied." He leered suggestively, winking at her as she elbowed him sharply in the ribs.

"As potentially disturbing as the thought of _that_ is," she began, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips, "I think you showed them a good time." He chuckled at that, but she continued, "and the wicked Witch of the West wouldn't have noticed anyway."

There was no way she didn't notice the shudder that ran through his frame at that particular memory.

She turned in the booth, slipping one leg under the other as she leaned against the wall, looking at him with curiosity. "Why do it?" she asked. "Why do this if you don't really want to?"

It was Killian's turn to pause. His innate compulsion to please his brother had long since given way to something very different, no matter how hopeless, but that was not a story for today.

"Keeps my nosy brother off my back," he said, his tone light despite the heavy feeling in his chest. The light in her eyes as she mentioned Henry flashed back, a stark reminder that he played no part in her happiness, nor was he likely to. "Assuages his guilt about sailing off to the North Sea with his lovely bride and leaving his younger brother to fend for himself."

"And why would he feel guilty about leaving a grown man to do that?" she asked with a grin. "Do you need a babysitter of some kind? Because that would have been helpful information to have before suggesting some unsuspecting woman go out with you."

His hand went to his forearm, fingers rubbing lightly over the spot where he was marked with her name. Drink and despair had taken him to the bottom once, all hope gone as he wallowed in his grief at losing Milah. His home, his career, his future all lost in the depths of a cheap bottle of rum and a healthy dose of self loathing...with only Liam as an anchor.

Killian's gaze met Emma's, her green eyes searching his face in the silence as if she knew how much he was holding back.

"Suffice it to say my brother has done more than his fair share of babysitting over the years, Swan," he finally answered. She said nothing, just nodded in a way that only deepened his sense that she, like him, had suffered for love. Something sparked in the silence between them and for a fleeting moment Emma inched towards him, swaying into his space ever so slightly, her fingers brushing his arm with the barest of touches but enough to send a bolt of heat dancing across his skin. He held his breath, unsure of what was happening but too afraid to move and break the spell.

His phone had other ideas - the message tone sounding shrilly in the quiet.

Emma sprang back and he looked at the offending device, his brother's picture flashing on the screen. My keeper yet again, he thought with some regret.

"I'd better go and let you get that," Emma said hurriedly, moving in the seat and giving him little option but to stand and allow her to exit. "I promised Henry I'd meet him for breakfast so I better get some sleep. Good luck with Belle."

The subtle emphasis on Henry's name was not lost on Killian. It seemed as much a reminder to her as it was clearly meant to be for him.

"Again, my thanks for your assistance, Swan," he said softly. "I shall look forward to your assessment of the Lady Belle when next we meet." Her shoulders sagged slightly, some of the tension that had been in her body relaxing clearly realising he was not going to push her for more. "It's quite late, will you allow me to see you home safely?"

Emma gestured towards the door at the rear of the diner. "You already did," she admitted, "I'm staying here at Granny's. I'll...um, see you around."

She was gone before he could reply.

* * *

Emma Swan had not overstated her people skills.

Belle French was warm and clever and funny and Killian found he was genuinely enjoying her company. They found common ground on classic literature and a dislike for the trend for dystopian universes and she was fascinated by his travels during his Navy years.

Killian's smile was real as Belle shared funny stories of the children she worked with in the library and admitted her secret wish to write herself, an endeavour that he found himself thoroughly endorsing and indeed, making several suggestions for potential topics, each more ludicrous than the next. Belle's laughter rang out across the restaurant and for a moment Killian could almost imagine a future where this was his life - comfortable dinners and pleasant conversations with a woman that made him feel...normal again.

If only he could convince himself that normal was enough.

Seated in someone else's section, he had only seen Emma from a distance, no warm smile or biting conversation to put his mind at ease that the moment they had both felt at Granny's was something they could move beyond. Despite the pleasure he felt in Belle's company, he could not deny the sense of loss that Emma's absence brought, the feeling that his life in Storybrooke was somehow off kilter without her there to enjoy it with him.

Even if only as his friend.

Killian knew there would be no coloured scrawl on the check and yet the same tingle of anticipation remained as he opened the wallet. Black print on stark white paper greeted him, along with a battle to hide his disappointment in the face of a woman who deserved more from him. He helped Belle into her coat, his hand on the small of her back as he ushered her through the restaurant, eyes scanning the room in the hope of catching a glimpse of Emma.

"She's on a break," the hostess whispered to him as he signed the check and he looked up in surprise. The woman just shrugged, a knowing smile on her face as he held the door open for Belle and followed her out into the street.

A taxi was waiting by the kerb. He opened the door, but before she slipped inside, Belle reached up and kissed him lightly on the cheek, her hand resting on his arm for just a moment.

"Thank you for a lovely evening, Killian," she said with a smile. "I haven't laughed so much in quite some time. I hope I can see you again soon."

He had to hold in a wry chuckle. The second date, just as Emma had predicted. It was just with the wrong woman.

"Aye, love, it has been a pleasure," he said. "I shall have to come and borrow those recommendations of yours sooner rather than later. We'll speak soon." She climbed into the car and he closed the door carefully, waving as it pulled away from him.

What a mess, he thought, running his hand through his dark hair. A sensible man would walk away, head for home and not look back in the hope of just a glimpse of someone who could not be his. Especially not when a warm, attractive and available woman was eager to spend more time with him.

It seemed he was not a sensible man.

He gazed in the bay windows of the restaurant for what seemed like hours, watching as the staff darted here and there, diners talking and laughing and eating - all with no sign of Emma. A rowdy group leaving woke him from his reverie, their voices filling the street with sound and action, and he shook himself back to reality with a resigned sigh. As the stragglers wandered past him, he tagged on the end of their group until a movement in the nearby stairway caught his eye.

"Swan?" he asked as the soft light of a phone screen lit up the dark, illuminating her features. "What are you doing out here?"

"I'm on a break," she stated, barely raising her eyes from her device.

"So I heard, love," he replied, "but this seems an odd place to take it." Killian paused as she slowly put the phone away, realising perhaps that he was unlikely to walk away. "I must say I missed your feedback this evening."

"Didn't look like you needed it."

"And your company." He was pushing his luck now, he knew.

"Didn't look like you needed that either," she said dryly, "I hate to say I told you so but…"

"Aye, she was a lovely lass," he interrupted. "I have a feeling we will be great friends."

Emma's brow furrowed deeply as she studied his face. Killian held his ground, a soft smile on his face as her eyes wandered over his features. He could see confusion in her eyes at his choice of words but she asked him nothing. They stood in silence for a few moments, before Emma made a move to leave.

"I better get back to work," she said quickly, her shoulder connecting heavily with his as she stepped past. Emma stumbled and Killian reached out his hand to steady her, spinning her slightly to face him as his fingers grasped her arm.

"Emma," Killian said softly, "Why are you avoiding me?"

She scowled at him, but did not pull away from his touch. "I'm not avoiding you," she snapped, "but I have a job to go to. And I'm sure you have follow up messages to send or something."

He released her arm, stepping out of her space with a sigh. "Of course, Swan, back to work," he said. "But don't tell me you aren't avoiding me because I am actually quite perceptive and this -" he gestured between them, "- this is avoiding me."

Emma sucked in a deep breath, her mouth forming a tight line as her eyes flashed with something Killian could not quite place. For a brief second he thought it was anger - until Emma launched herself forward and grabbed his lapels, her lips seeking his in a hot, wet clash. Momentarily stunned, Killian gasped for breath before his hand went to her blonde hair, tangling in her braid as his mouth chased hers, unwilling to let her go. They breathed together and he waited for her to step away, to realise her mistake, but instead she tightened her grip on his collar, her long fingers carding through the hair at the nape of his neck as her mouth worked against his again.

Heat coursed through Killian's body, his heart thumping a staccato rhythm as she finally pulled back, her shoulders heaving, her face flushed pink and eyes blown wide.

God, but she was beautiful.

Still holding tightly to his lapels, Emma stayed in his space, close enough for Killian to feel her breath on his skin, her forehead touching his as he breathed, "That was…"

"A one time thing."

There was a moment of stillness, Emma not quite meeting his eyes as she swayed towards him slightly, seemingly ready to make a liar of herself almost immediately, but instead she released her grip on his clothing and stepped back. Still too shaken to respond, Killian watched as she turned and walked back towards the restaurant without a word. He ran his fingers over his kiss-swollen lips, committing every moment of her kiss to memory, as if it were something he could ever forget.

A multitude of questions ran through his mind but he pushed them aside, relishing the lingering scent of her shampoo and the ghost of her lips on his for as long as he could. There would be time enough for Henry and Belle and a million other problems tomorrow.

For now, she was all he cared to think about.

* * *

Good form didn't allow Killian to push thoughts of Belle aside for long. Emma's kiss had left him reeling, no idea of what he was to her, but he could not in good conscience allow Belle to harbor hopes of his heart when it was so firmly in the hands of another.

There was a slight tremor in her voice on the phone, but in his own scattered state he paid it little attention - until she sat opposite him at Granny's, an awkward smile in place, and told him of the unexpected phone call from the man she had loved and suspected she still did.

He laughed at her confession and when he shared the reason for asking her to come, she joined in, ordering a second cup of coffee to toast their new friendship. They were deep in a discussion of preferred movie adaptations of the classics when a dark-haired boy appeared at their table.

"Hi Belle, sorry to interrupt you but I just wanted to check if that book had come in yet?" he said, tripping over his words in his enthusiasm, before turning his attention to Killian. "Hi, I'm Henry," he said, holding out his hand confidently.

Killian shook the boy's hand, responding to his earnest smile while he rolled the name over in his mind. "Killian Jones, lad," he said and Henry's eyes widened in recognition.

"Oh I've heard about you from my mom," he smiled, "You eat at the restaurant a lot." Curious to see who the boy's mother was, Killian scanned the room quickly, spotting the snarky manager, Regina, hovering nearby.

Following Killian's gaze, Henry shook his head. "No, not her. My other mom." The confusion must have been clear on Killian's face because he clarified quickly. "Emma."

Killian's mind was suddenly racing. Henry. The boy was Henry. And Emma was his _mother_.

Hope fluttered in the pit of his stomach as the sensation of Emma's lips on his flooded back. He ran his hand across his face, closing his eyes as he remembered the way she felt pressed against him.

"Killian?" Henry's voice jolted him back to reality. "Are you ok?"

He smiled at the boy. "Yes lad, just distracted for a moment. Were you saying something?"

From across the table, Belle eyed him with some suspicion. Too wise for her own good, Killian thought fondly as she spoke to Henry. "I'm sure Killian would love to hear about your mom, Henry," she said, indicating for the boy to sit down next to her. Henry looked to Regina for approval, then wasted no time making himself at home.

"My mom - Regina - adopted me when I was a baby," he said with the air of one well practised in telling this story, "but I wanted to find my birth mom so I went to Boston and surprised her. Emma, I mean."

"Well I assume Regina was well aware…" Killian began but Henry interrupted.

"Actually she was kind of surprised too," he said sheepishly. A story for another day, it appeared however, as the boy continued. "Anyway, Emma brought me home and she decided to stay here in town with her family." Killian could not help but smile at the innocence of the boy, everything so simple in a child's eyes when he was sure the truth was anything but.

"Henry, I didn't know we were…" came a voice over Killian's shoulder, the sentence left unfinished as Emma caught his eye. She froze momentarily, looking from Killian to Belle and Henry and back again, before turning on her heel with a mumbled explanation about leaving something in her room.

"Swan?"

"Mom?" they said simultaneously, both standing as if to follow her. Belle put a hand on Henry's arm, pulling him gently back down to sit.

"Perhaps let Killian go, Henry. I think he needs a word with your mum." Henry looked mildly bemused but he shrugged and Killian clapped him on the shoulder with a nod as he walked past towards the door where Emma had disappeared.

She was leaning against the wall, her face set in a hard frown that she fought to modify when she saw him.

"Looks like you took my advice on second date locations too," she said with a forced half smile. "I'm out of ideas now so you're on your own for a third, Jones."

"I am much obliged for the introduction to this delightful establishment, Swan," he replied, "but sadly, your services will not be required to scout further tryst locations." She furrowed her brow in confusion and he clarified. "It appears the heart of the Lady Belle has been won by another."

Emma paused, her hard-edged expression melting into something less obvious - relief, he thought, definitely sympathy and something else he prayed was hope. "I'm sorry Killian," she said eventually. "I really thought…"

Killian held up a hand to stop her, a smile playing at the corners of his lips as he gazed into her deep, green eyes. "Don't vex yourself over it, love," he said quietly, "for I must admit that I invited her here to tell her that very same thing."

She was breathing more heavily now, her shoulders rising and falling steadily as her face worked through a string of conflicting emotions. He stepped ever so slightly into her space, toe to toe as they watched each other, both waiting for the other to speak.

It was Emma who broke the silence.

"It's Cruella, isn't it? I knew you had a thing for those brows," she said, a tiny smirk on her face as Killian threw his head back and laughed.

"You've got me, Swan," he chuckled, seeing the relief on her face as the tension between them dissipated, "I was done for as soon as I saw them. Thinking of doing my own the same, actually." He waggled his eyebrows at her and she grinned, the smile lighting up her features as her eyes sparkled with amusement.

"You always were an idiot," she said. He took a half bow in response, her mischief making him brave enough to reach over and brush a stray blonde curl from her shoulder, tucking it gently behind her ear with a light brush of his fingers. Her eyes didn't leave his as his hand moved against her cheek, her body swaying almost imperceptibly into his as he touched her.

"Your assessment of me is not unwarranted, love," he said, so close now he could feel the warmth of her breath on his skin. "For example, I met Henry this morning." Again, confusion clouded her features and he continued. "Henry is your son."

"Um...yeah, I know," Emma said, eyeing him warily.

"Not a suitor of yours," Killian stated. "Your son." Emma blinked slowly, considering what he was saying before her mouth rounded in understanding.

"You thought…" she began and he nodded.

"So you let me…" He nodded again.

Emma took in a deep breath, pursing her lips as he smiled softly back at her. She expelled hard, tensing slightly before she spoke.

"And when you said your heart belonged to someone else, you didn't mean…"

Killian shook his head, cupping her chin with his fingers, his thumb playing softly back and forth over the softness of her cheek. He tilted her face towards his, needing her to see the truth of his words in his eyes, for there to be no doubt in her mind that he meant every syllable.

"Don't you know, Emma," he whispered into the space between them, "it's you."

Her eyes widened as he leaned down to rest his forehead on hers, one arm curling softly around her back and pulling her closer as her hands slid up his torso and came to rest by his lapels. He chuckled quietly and her fingers toyed with the leather at his collar, as if remembering when they had connected before under far, far different circumstances.

"I kissed you," she breathed, tangling her fingers in his jacket again as her tongue darted out across her bottom lip.

"Aye, I remember it well," he said, the pull of her tumble of blonde hair too much to resist as he anchored his hands there. "And I'm rather hoping you'll do it again."

She closed the gap between them slowly, her lips meeting his, tentatively at first, before she pulled him hard against her. Their mouths moved in unison, nipping and pulling until Killian angled his head to deepen their kiss. Emma's hands carded through his dark hair as she pressed herself against him, warmth flooding every corner. She pulled away slightly, their noses bumping as she smiled at him before bringing her mouth back to his once more.

When Killian released her lips again, Emma grinned at him, fingernails scratching teasingly at the back of his neck.

"You'd better hand it over," she said with a mischievous wink.

Killian was confused until her hand snaked down to his back pocket and drew out . She held it out for him to enter the passcode before she found the dating app and held her finger on it.

"Won't be needing this," she said as the app in question wobbled unceremoniously. He gave permission with a slight nod of his head and she flicked the tile into the trash. She made to hand back the device, but seemed to think better of it, opening another app and typing quickly, before shutting down the phone and handing it back.

"Check your notes," she said with a smirk, taking a few steps towards the dining room. "Now I have a breakfast date with my son, but if you want to come join us…"

"I'd be delighted," Killian said, swiping the phone to life, unable to wait to see what she had done. Emma laughed and was gone and Killian opened up the secret message she had left for him.

 _Not bad, Jones - soft lips, handsome face,_ good _kisser. Now to hope you can come up with somewhere different for our first date! E x_

As he made his way out to meet her, he hoped so too.


End file.
